Page 78 of Deep Blue Lies

SEVENTY-SEVEN

Mum wakes me in time for dinner, and we eat together in the hotel’s restaurant.

Neither of us speaks much, but I feel her watching me, making sure I eat something substantial this time, and not just a few leaves of lettuce.

It’s dark outside now, the night warm and inviting.

I can still see the pool, the water illuminated from below.

I don’t know why, but I get a flash in my mind of Mum, working in her pool bar in the old Aegean Dream Resort.

It’s the same colour – the pool here and the one I’ve constructed in my mind.

The way I’ve somehow mentally emptied the garbage and the dirt from the old, broken ADR pool, and filled it with clear cool water.

I’m about to ask her about it. Whether it was as pretty as this, but she speaks before I get the chance.

“I’ve got a message from the airport,” she sighs. “I thought we had everything covered, but it turns out I need to go and sign a different release form before they’ll load her onto the plane.” She gives me a look of apologetic frustration.

“Imogen?”

“Yes Imogen, who else?” She frowns, just for a moment, then goes right on.

“So I’m afraid you’re going to have to do the apartment on your own.

But I’ve booked you a taxi, and I’ve spoken to the man on the front desk and told him to tell the taxi driver that he’s to stay outside until you’re done, and then bring you right back.

Are you going to be OK with that?” She glances at her watch, and sighs again. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be.”

I think for a moment, working out how this works. Then I nod. “Yeah.”

“It’s just your passport you need. Do you have your key?”

I nod again.

“OK, well let’s go. This is all charged to the room.

” We get up from the table, and she leads me through the restaurant, towards the reception and the front of the hotel.

I still have this weird feeling, like I’m slightly floating or I’m not quite me, which is kind of funny, because I’m not sure who I am anymore.

There’s a taxi waiting outside the hotel, the lights on, engine running.

Mum speaks again to the receptionist, and he comes out and opens the door for me.

I smile my thanks and climb into the back seat.

It smells of leather, or that fake vinyl leather, or maybe it’s the air freshener dangling from the mirror.

Something anyway. Mum leans down to speak to me.

“Just make sure you get the passport, the rest isn’t important. And don’t worry at all about the rent and deposit, we can sort all of that out from England.”

I nod. She closes the door and is about to remind the driver of my address but he cuts her off, he already knows, maybe the receptionist told him.

As we drive away I look back and see her watching the taxi leave, and then turning and walking to her hire car parked up outside the hotel. Then I lose her as we turn the corner.

“Excuse me,” I say to the driver. Trying to speak feels like stirring thick honey.

“Yes?”

“Before we go to the apartment, can we make a stop somewhere else?” I don’t know Maria’s address exactly, but I describe where it is and the driver nods rapidly .

“OK. No problem.”

The truth is I’m glad Mum can’t come with me to do this. I don’t want to leave without saying thank you to Maria, for everything she’s done. And goodbye to Sophia.